Seventh and Pine
by iambeagle
Summary: Eating food, drinking beer, and watching football are acceptable ways to spend your Thanksgiving Day. Wooing your niece's insanely attractive babysitter, however, is not. EPOV
1. Parade

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

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**Chapter One: Parade**

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.

It has all of the gathering power of Christmas, but none of the pressure, which means you're more likely to spend it drunk. It's not as cash-intensive as Christmas. There's none of the skeeviness of Halloween; none of the guilt of Arbor Day. You're not as likely to sweat as you would on the Fourth of July—although, according to Emmett, that fact depends on how much you eat.

In many ways, Thanksgiving is the gateway to what I like to call The Holiday Season. Unless you count Sukkot, which I personally don't.

Every Thanksgiving is spent the same: I show up at my sister Rose's house, with two six-packs of Heineken. I don't cook, and no one expects much from me, so I bring the beer. It's my only job. By the time I arrive—which is usually around ten o'clock—everyone is already there. I sit and watch football with my dad. I sneak into the kitchen and sample the food before it's done. I get yelled at. I drink another beer. I endure playing _tea party _with my niece, because if I don't, she'll cry. I eat too much food. I drink more beer. I eat a piece of every dessert. More beer. Maybe a nap. Beer. More food. Football.

This year is different, though. I make the mistake of showing up early, and when I open my first beer, Rose immediately pulls it out of my hand.

"Hey!" I protest, reaching for it.

"It's not even nine in the morning," she scolds, taking a quick sip of her mimosa.

"It's _Thanksgiving_. Time doesn't exist today, and neither does my liver."

She ignores my entirely legitimate reason, and says, "You can't drink yet because I need you to take Emily to the parade downtown."

"Make Emmett take her," I say, just as he walks into the kitchen. He merely laughs, shaking his head.

"Hey, I tried," he offers, grabbing my beer, claiming it as his own. "She doesn't want to go with me. She wants her Uncle Eddie."

"I can't get anything done with her running around here, trying to stick her Barbies in the oven," Rose goes on to say.

I sigh. "Can't I just take her out back and watch her jump on the trampoline while drinking beer?" Rose gives me a look. "_I'd _be the one drinking the beer, not her."

"It's too cold outside to jump on the trampoline," she insists.

"Yet you want me to stand outside with her on the street," I deadpan.

"Buy hot chocolate," Emmett suggests.

"But—"

Rose sighs dramatically, and my mouth snaps shut. She looks stressed out as fuck, and I don't really want to push her. Especially since she's in the process of making me a feast. "Edward. Emmy's getting into everything. She almost burned herself on the oven, and I can't do this right now," she says exasperatedly, stepping past me to shove a casserole dish into the oven. "My nerves are shot, and she loves you, Edward. She loves you; so you're going to take her to the parade... otherwise you get no dessert." I eye my beer in Emmett's hand. "And no beer."

I rub my temple. "I don't even know what you're talking about when you mention a parade. What parade?"

"Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade."

"Spoiler alert: we're in Seattle; not New York. Unless you're going to pay for our flights... and the DeLorean that we'll need to go back in time, because I'm pretty sure the parade is over."

"What are you talking about?"

"_Back to the Future_, baby," Emmett explains. "Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads."

I crack the fuck up at his impression of Doc, and begin quoting Biff Tannen. "Why don't you make like a tree and get outta here?"

Rose doesn't look impressed. "Don't be a smartass. I'm not talking about the parade in New York. There's something going on downtown, and it's sponsored by Macy's."

Before I have a chance to talk myself out of this, Emily bursts into the kitchen, bundled up from head to toe.

"Uncle Edward!" she squeals, stumbling toward me and wrapping her arms around my legs. "I love you so much for taking me to the parade. You're my favorite uncle ever," she adds, laying it on a little thick.

"I'm your only uncle," I laugh, tugging the beanie down over her eyes.

She pulls it off, and looks up at me with a smile. I sigh in defeat, because I can't fucking say no.

And that's how, twenty minutes later, I find myself standing on Seventh and Pine with my niece, braving the cold weather and an annoyingly excited crowd.

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**So, I'm spending Thanksgiving alone this year. Really, don't feel sorry for me. I have homemade pumpkin pie (courtesy of Julie) and red wine—two things of which I'm thankful for. Oh, and _you_. I am thankful for you!**

**Anyway, this will be short and sweet. Happy Thanksgiving, and thanks for reading!  
****  
Kim looked over this for me because she's British and doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving. So, she was free. **


	2. Babysitter

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Babysitter**

After enduring one hour of inflatable floats, two marching bands, and about a million costumed characters walking down the street, the parade finally concludes with Santa waving and _ho ho ho_'ing.

The crowd begins to disperse, and I look down at Emily.

"So? Was that the best parade of your life or have you seen better?" I ask teasingly.

And then she begins crying._ Extremely fucking loud_.

I gently grab her hand and pull her over to the sidewalk to stand in front of a dry cleaning store. Ignoring the people staring accusingly in our direction, as if _I'm _the one making her cry, I drop to my knees to assess the situation.

"What's wrong?"

Her small chin quivers, blonde hair sticking to her wet cheeks as she sobs. "Santa didn't ask me what I wanted for Christmas. Now I won't get any presents."

I laugh. I can't help it. My reaction doesn't seem to help, because her cries grow louder.

"Emmy, he..." I almost want to tell her that he isn't real. I'm not sure if Rose would appreciate that, though, and I figure telling her this will only trigger more tears. "He's really busy, right? That's why he couldn't stay long. And doesn't your mom always take you to see him at the mall?"

"No. She never takes me anywhere!" she wails. It's exactly the way I remember Rose acting as a kid, and I have to roll my eyes at her dramatics.

I give her a look, because I know she's lying. Every year, when Rose sends out her annual Christmas card, there's always a wallet-sized photo of Emily sitting on Santa's lap.

"Come on. You need to stop," I tell her, trying to keep my voice stern.

Her foot stomps and she crosses her arms, and I think of the time she threw a tantrum when we were in Target. This _cannot _be like the time we were in Target.

I quickly stand, picking her up into my arms. "You'll see Santa in a few weeks, and you can tell him what you want then, okay?"

"But I want to see him today!" she screams in my ear. I'm pretty sure I go partially deaf.

"I bet he already knows what you want," I insist, nodding enthusiastically. "Santa can... read minds."

"Really?" she asks.

She perks up at an amazingly fast speed, so I go with it.

"Yeah. That's why he passes through here on a float, so he can read everyone's mind and get a head start on... things. Christmas things." I have no idea what I'm actually saying, but it seems to be working as her tears stop.

I pull a few funny faces and try to make her laugh. Once I'm positive she's calmed down, I take the risk of setting her back on the pavement so we can begin walking toward my car. She talks and talks, and all I'm thinking about is heading back to my sister's place, where there is beer and food waiting for me.

"My babysitter!" Emily suddenly shrieks, pointing straight ahead. "Edward, look. It's Miss Bella."

So, I look.

The only person who could possibly be a _Miss Bella _in the direction she's pointing, is a petite brunette who is holding a phone to her ear and tipping her head back in laughter. From where we're standing, I can tell she's attractive. She has a nice smile. She's bundled up, and I briefly wonder what her tits look underneath all of the layers she's wearing.

And then I'm no longer just looking, but _staring_, because I can't _not_.

"Can we go say hi?" Emily tugs on my coat a few times, trying to grab my attention. Before I realize what's happening, she's pulling my arm in the direction of her babysitter.

"Hi, Miss Bella! Happy Thanksgiving," Emily says politely.

I catch the sitter's eye just as she slips her phone into her pocket. She looks close to my age, but I can't be sure. I wonder why I've never met her before. I wonder if she's wondering the same thing.

"Hey, Emmy," she greets with a warm smile, bending her knees and leaning over so they're eye level. "Happy Thanksgiving. What are you doing downtown?"

"We came to watch the parade!" she squeaks.

Despite the fact that _Miss Bella _moves to stand straight, I'm still towering over her. Her eyes flicker up to mine, narrowing in the slightest as she tries to place me.

I grin at her. "Hi."

"Who's your friend?" she asks Emily, but keeps her gaze on me.

I reach out and offer her a hand. "I'm Edward. Emily's Uncle."

"Bella. Emily's babysitter," she tells me, pulling off her mitten to shake my hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Bella."

"You have to call her _Miss _Bella," Emily chastises me.

Bella's eyes squint as she laughs. "That's okay. I'm not your _uncle's _babysitter," she explains. "And if I remember correctly, I keep telling you to call me Bella as well."

"But my mommy tells me to call you Miss Bella."

"That's alright, then." Bella's smile grows as she keeps staring at Emily, and my eyes stay trained on her lips as she speaks again. "Did you enjoy the parade?"

"I did! My favorite part was when I saw Santa," she says excitedly.

"Seeing Santa was always my favorite part, too," Bella whispers, and Emily practically beams in return.

"He left before I got to tell him what I want for Christmas, but Uncle Edward said he can read minds, so it's okay."

"Oh, really?" Bella asks, shooting me a quick smile. "I didn't know Santa could read minds. When did that start?"

"He had to up his game," I offer, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Right. Because traveling around the world in one night and delivering presents to all the children isn't enough. He has to be a mind reader, too."

I laugh through my nose. "Competition was getting really tough, so..."

"Oh, yeah. I think I did hear that the Easter Bunny can fly now. So, that makes sense."

I grin, and I want to rein it in, but I can't. "Exactly."

Our eyes stay locked for the briefest of moments. She looks away first, turning her attention back on Emily.

"I'm so glad I got to see you! Tell your mom and dad they need to go out soon so I can come over and hang out with you."

"I want you to come hang out now," Emily whines, leaving my side to wrap her arms around Bella's legs.

And then, _fuck. _I'm staring at her legs. She's wearing black tights or something, and though she's pretty short, her legs are not. They're long, and I'm imagining them wrapped around my waist, and it's so fucking wrong because I don't even know her and she's my niece's babysitter.

_She's your niece's babysitter._

Bella tries to appease the situation with, "I promise to hang out with you soon, Emmy."

"But I want you to eat turkey with us."

I step closer, placing a hand on Emily's shoulder to try and gently pull her away from Bella. "We gotta get back. Everyone's waiting on us."

"Bella? You don't want to eat turkey with me?" she asks innocently.

Bella looks at me for help, and I can only hold my hands up in defeat. There's nothing I can really do at this point, except brace myself for the hissy fit Emily is about to throw when she doesn't get her way.

"I don't really want to intrude—"

"You wouldn't be intruding," I say quickly. "I mean, I'm sure Rose and Emmett wouldn't mind having you over. Rose loves to feed people, and Emmett loves to... feed."

I need to shut up.

I need to shut the _fuck _up.

A small laugh escapes from her lips, and then I'm staring again.

Bella drops to her knees and adjusts the beanie on Emily's head. "You remember my dad, Charlie?" Emily sniffles and nods. "Well he's all alone right now, so I need to go eat with him."

"But—"

"How about I stop by your house later to eat dessert with you? Would that be okay?"

"I guess that's okay," she agrees, holding out her pinky. "Only if you promise."

"I promise," Bella replies, linking their pinkies together.

"Can Garrett come over, too?"

Bella hesitates momentarily, and who the hell is Garrett?

"I don't think so," she responds carefully. "He has to eat with his family, too."

Emily accepts this, and I find her sudden lack of curiosity very inconvenient.

Bella stands up and gives me a look. "Can you just... mention to Rose that I'll be by later? I don't want to just show up and... I don't know."

"It's fine," I reassure her, nodding. I don't actually know if it's fine or not, but I want it to be. "I'll mention it, though."

"Okay, cool. Thanks."

We say goodbye, and Bella hugs Emily once more before she walks down the street.

And that's how, an hour later, I'm bribing my niece with cookies in exchange for details about this Garrett guy.

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**Like I needed to make Santa any creepier. He already knows when you are sleeping and knows when you're awake.**

**Thank you, thank you for all of the reviews and for reading and just being super nice.**

**Kim and Vic made this better, I swear.**


	3. Boyfriend

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Boyfriend**

I'm sitting on the front porch, drinking a beer when Bella finally arrives.

She's in the passenger seat of the car, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who is driving: Garrett. Her _boyfriend_.

After plying Emily with three chocolate chip cookies—which ultimately resulted in ruining her appetite before we ate lunch—she revealed to me that Garrett was Bella's boyfriend. She also mentioned that Garrett was really fun to play _tea party_ with, and knew how to do a backward flip on the trampoline.

What kind of respectable man does a backward flip on a trampoline?

It's stupid, but I feel oddly competitive toward this guy I've never met. I'm surprised Bella brought him here, since she told Emily he wouldn't be tagging along. I suddenly wonder what he'd do if I challenged him to a backflip contest.

I gulp my beer, and try to be discreet as I stare at the car. Neither one of them make a move to exit. I can see her talking, but I can't hear what she's saying. _I want to know what she's saying_.

It's been drizzling for the past two hours, but the rain suddenly picks up and it's pouring. It hardly ever rains like this, and it makes it hard for me to see what's happening inside the car. I squint, and the passenger door swings open. I hear a faint squeal and watch as Bella ducks her head and runs towards the house.

And then she's standing on the porch, completely drenched.

I look past her, expecting to see Garrett, but then the car pulls away from the curb and he leaves. I don't ask why he's leaving because I don't care.

"Holy shit. I have impeccable timing," she mutters, wiping at her face and under her eyes.

I snort. "Yeah. Especially since everyone is napping right now."

She rings her hair out. "Seriously?"

"The house was suspiciously quiet once everyone left the table," I explain, bringing the long neck of my beer to my lips. "I didn't want to get stuck doing the dishes since everyone crashed out, so I came outside."

Unbuttoning her coat, she sits next to me on the porch swing. She's wearing a sweater, and I try stealing a glance at her chest.

"Smart move."

"Huh?" I tense up, and suddenly feel like a fucking idiot for checking out her tits.

"It was smart of you to hide outside so you wouldn't have to do the dishes," she explains, pulling an elastic band from her wrist to tie her hair back.

"Oh." I kind of chuckle, relieved that I wasn't caught staring. "Right. Do you want me to go see if they're awake yet?"

"That's okay. I'm not in a rush or anything," she says casually. "So, how did you manage to defeat the evil L-Tryptophan?" I hold up my beer in response. "Doesn't alcohol usually add to the nap-factor?"

"Apparently I'm immune to the side effects of Thanksgiving," I joke.

"So, you're like... invincible," she muses.

"Maybe. But I mean, I'm not about to attempt a backflip on the trampoline or anything. That's just stupid."

She blinks, releasing a small laugh. "What does that mean?"

I shrug, chuckling. The conversation ends then, and the only thing filling the silence is the rain pelting against the pavement.

"Do you want a beer?" I ask, suddenly feeling rude.

Her mouth curves into a smile. "I don't know. I don't want it to be weird."

"Why would it be weird? Are you not twenty-one?"

She laughs, and begins slowly swinging us back and forth. "I'm twenty-three."

"And you don't drink alcohol."

"I do."

"Why would it be weird then?"

"Because I'm Emily's babysitter?" She says it almost like a question. "I'd feel weird drinking around Rose and Emmett."

"Ah." I don't really know what I can say to that. "Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?"

"I did, actually. Yeah. What about you guys?"

"It was good. No one choked, which is always nice. Emily threw a temper tantrum... but so did Emmett." She laughs at this for longer than I expect, and I smile in return. I want to make her laugh again.

She looks down and I realize I'm staring. I'm always fucking staring. I clear my throat, filling the silence. "You said you were at your dad's, right?"

"Yeah. He doesn't really cook, so I felt obligated to provide him with some sort of a Thanksgiving meal. I feel rude showing up here without bringing anything for dessert, but I wasn't planning on coming over..."

I wave her off. "You should see the spread in there. We're good on desserts. We always have too much food for six people."

"Who else is here?"

"My parents."

She nods slowly. "I've met them a few times. They're nice."

"Yeah, they are... but they spoil Emily too much."

"I believe that. But so do Rose and Emmett," she laughs, planting her foot on the porch to stop the swing.

"God," I groan. "She can seriously be a brat."

"It's a good thing she's so cute," Bella adds, shaking her head. "And, hey. Don't pretend like you don't spoil her, too."

"I don't. She doesn't get away with anything when she's with me," I lie, raising my eyebrows. "I gotta keep her in check, you know?"

"You're such a liar," she says, quietly laughing.

The front door opens then, and my mother, Esme, peeks her head outside.

"Ah, there you are!" she exclaims, stepping into view. "Hiding to get out of doing the dishes, I see."

"No. I was keeping Bella company since everyone passed out," I say, grinning.

Bella stands, and they exchange _hello_s and _happy thanksgiving_s before my mother pulls her into a small hug.

"I think Emily might still be napping, but Carlisle can't seem to wait any longer to eat dessert," my mom tells us, sighing. "Come on in."

We go inside and follow my mom to the dining room, where Bella greets everyone. My dad, who isn't usually one for any type of displays of affection, pulls Bella into a hug. He doesn't even hug _me_.

I almost get pushed out of the way when Emmett bounds into the room, looking entirely too excited to see his daughter's babysitter. I step back and watch as Bella animatedly tells Emmett a story about something.

And then I'm standing there wondering why I've never met her when she seems to be so close with every member of my family.

Rose walks past me carrying pumpkin pie in one hand, and pecan pie in the other. Esme follows behind her with an apple pie and some other type of dessert I don't know.

"Edward? Maybe you could go get some plates?" Esme suggests.

I nod and head into the kitchen. I toss my beer in the recycle bin. I pull out six plates and six forks.

Everyone eats their dessert quickly before praising Rose for how delicious everything is. The six of us sit around the table, talking and laughing, telling stories about how Emily practically gets away with murder.

Emmett disappears in the kitchen, then returns with two beers, handing me one. Rose offers Bella a glass of wine and she politely declines, her eyes meeting mine. We smile knowingly at one another.

Esme announces she's going to brew a pot of coffee, and check on Emily.

"I can't believe she's still napping," Bella says in disbelief.

"She didn't sleep much last night," Rose replies, suddenly looking concerned. "I hope she's not getting sick, because she didn't really eat much during lunch."

I cough. Loudly.

"So, Bella? Where did Garrett spend Thanksgiving?" Rose asks, out of politeness.

I clench my jaw and stare intently at my beer bottle, suddenly focused on peeling off the label.

"He was with his family," Bella replies. "He dropped me off, though. He said to tell everyone hi."

"He's such a sweet guy," Rose practically coos, and that's my cue.

I abruptly stand from the table and begin gathering everyone's plates.

"Is everyone done? I'll do the dishes," I offer, keeping my eyes away from Bella.

"What are you doing, Edward?" Emmett asks teasingly. "Are you trying to impress our guest by offering to do the dishes?"

"Ha ha," I say dryly, stacking the plates on top of one another.

"I'll help you," Bella suddenly offers, standing from her chair.

"Nonsense. You're a guest," Rose chides.

"It's fine. Loading a dishwasher isn't hard," I mutter, forcing a laugh.

"You'll have to wash by hand. The dishwasher is full from lunch," Rose informs me.

"I don't mind helping. Really," Bella insists, shooting a friendly smile. "I didn't bring any dessert, so it's the least I can do."

She takes some of the plates from my hands, and I don't protest as she walks ahead of me into the kitchen. I stare at her ass as I follow behind her.

And then we're standing in front of the sink, elbow-to-elbow, washing the dishes. It's quiet, because I have nothing to say. Laughter erupts from the dining room as Bella dips a plate into the soapy water.

"You didn't have to do this," I tell her, grabbing the dish as she hands it to me. I rinse it, then dry it. Our elbows bump against one another.

"It's not a big deal."

She hands me the last plate, and then begins washing the silverware. "I'm surprised I've never met you before."

"Yeah, same here."

"I mean, I'd seen pictures of you before, and Emily adores you, so I'm always hearing about _Uncle Edward this_, and _Uncle Edward that_, but..."

I laugh, rinsing the last of the silverware. Bella reaches into the sink and pulls out the plug, watching as the water drains with a _whoosh_.

I slow my movements, taking my time drying. I find myself suddenly wishing we had more dishes to wash. I'm stalling. I don't want her to leave yet.

"Maybe we could go get a beer sometime," she suggests. "You know, when it's not weird."

I want to ask her why she wants to get a beer with me.

I want to ask her about Garrett.

But I don't ask her anything.

Her laughter brings me out of my thoughts. "This is the part where you say yes or no," she teases. "I'm not a mind reader, you know."

I grin. "Yeah, you don't really look like Santa."

"No? That's funny, because most people say I resemble him."

I like her. I don't really know her, but her smile and laugh and way she jokes makes me _want _to.

"We can go get a beer sometime, sure. I can't guarantee it won't be _weird_, though, but I can assure you that no one you babysit will be there."

We stand there, grinning at one another, until another round of laughter echoes throughout the house.

"So, do you have to leave soon, or..."

"No. I'm gonna hang around and wait for Emily to wake-up. I was actually thinking of asking Rose if I could take her to the star lighting ceremony that's going on downtown later."

I run a hand through my hair. "Yeah, on the way home, Emily was whining about wanting to go to that, but after the disaster at the parade, I think I'd be better off not taking her."

"What happened at the parade?"

"Nothing in comparison to what has happened before, but she was throwing a fit about not having been able to tell Santa what she wanted for Christmas."

"Ah." Bella nods knowingly. "And that's how the whole mind-reading Santa thing came into play?"

"Exactly. I was desperate. I actually almost resorted to admitting that Santa wasn't real, but I figured that would make things worse."

"Yeah. I wouldn't go around telling children that Santa isn't real. Let them figure it out for themselves," Bella jokes, and I laugh along with her.

And that's how, five seconds later, Emily's piercing scream could be heard throughout the house.

* * *

**Spoiler alert: Santa isn't real. I hope most of you knew that by now, but if not...**

**I'm having too much fun writing this. Thanks for reading, you guys!**

**Kim and Vic read over this & helped & stuff.**


	4. Santa

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Santa**

"She'll get over it," I mutter, taking a swig of my beer. And then Emily's high-pitched cry sounds from the other room, and I wince, adding, "Someday."

Bella sits back against the couch and sighs, biting her thumbnail. "I feel bad."

My dad sits in the chair in the corner, snoring softly, completely oblivious to the crisis that's happening.

"Don't feel bad," I tell Bella. "Rose and Emmett will figure something out. They're smart. They'll fix it."

That's when Emmett walks into the living room and says, "Rose says you have to fix this."

"Me? Why me?" I chug my beer.

"Because you're the one who did this."

"Maybe you can dress up as Santa or something," Bella suggests, trying to stay positive.

I pull at my hair in frustration and nod. At this point, I'll try anything.

Emmett doesn't look as convinced. "Where are you going to get a Santa suit on Thanksgiving Day?"

"You don't have one I can borrow?"

"I do... but I'm not sure you'd want to borrow it."

"Why not?"

"Rose and I like to play Here Cums Santa Claus and Jingle Balls."

I blink, and it takes me a second to get what he's saying. He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and I stand from the couch.

"Alright. That's information I think Bella and I could've done without," I quip, looking over to see her cheeks turning red. "Since borrowing your suit is out of the fucking question, I guess I can always run over to Walmart. It's open twenty-four hours, right? Maybe—"

"I think my dad has one," Bella interrupts. "I mean, instead of braving the insane crowds and waiting in line, I could just run over and get the suit."

I run a hand over my mouth. "Yeah?"

"Someone will have to drive me over, though."

"I can," I quickly offer. "Let me go grab my keys."

We pass by Emily's door on the way out. It's quiet, and I figure she's exhausted herself from getting so worked up. She might not be upset at the moment, but I can't help feeling a little bad. Kid shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but still. It was a shitty way to find out that Santa doesn't exist. Maybe if this plan doesn't work, Garrett can cheer her up by doing backflips on the trampoline.

On the drive over to Bella's dad's house, we pass by Walmart, and I groan at the sea of cars that are in the parking lot.

Bella looks behind us as we drive past. "Oh my God. Did you see that line of people waiting outside?"

"People are insane," I mutter, shaking my head, thankful we won't have to deal with that mess.

Ten minutes later, Bella's pointing out which house is her father's, and I'm pulling into the driveway.

"You should come in," she says, unbuckling her seatbelt. "It'd make more sense for you to put the suit on before we head back."

"Right. Yeah."

I get out and follow her inside.

"Is your dad here?"

"He had to go to work."

"On Thanksgiving Day?"

"Crime never sleeps," she says in a deep voice, and it isn't until she's laughing that I realize she's probably mocking her dad. "I think there's a box of Christmas stuff in the hall closet. I'll be right back."

I shove my hands in my pockets and stand awkwardly in the living room. I spot some pictures above the fireplace, and walk over to stare at them. There's one of a young Bella ice skating with who I assume is her father. There's a more recent photo of her in a graduation cap and gown, standing with the man from the ice skating photo, and an older woman.

Bella's voice startles me. "My parents," she snorts. "I think that's the only photo they posed together for, other than their wedding."

I nod, not sure how to respond to that. "U-Dub?"

"Yep. Graduated last year."

"Same. Well, I went to U-Dub, too. I didn't graduate last year, though. I'm a little older than you," I reply, pressing my lips together in a smile.

"What, class of eighty-nine?" She laughs like it's the funniest thing ever.

I roll my eyes, but find myself laughing too. Her laugh is contagious.

"I'm not _that _much older. I graduated three years ago."

"Ah." She hums as she sets the cardboard box down on the floor.

I walk over and peer into the box as she rifles through it.

"Here." She hands me a pair of plush red pants and a matching jacket. "You can probably just put it on over your clothes."

"No peeking," I joke, receiving an eye roll.

I step into the pants one leg at a time, then remove my own coat before pulling on the Santa jacket. I zip it up, and drop my arms by my side, not too impressed with the way I look.

"It's too big," I complain, emphasizing my point as I pull the fabric away from my body.

"I swear there was a belt that went with it..." she trails off, digging in the box. "Ah, here." She hands me a black belt, and I wrap it around my waist.

"Alright. Beard me." She tosses me the beard and I pull the elastic band over my head, securing it in place. "How do I look?" I ask, voice muffled from the fake beard.

Bella tips her head back and laughs. "Not bad at all. You're kind of rocking it."

She hands me a pair of black boot tops to put on over my shoes.

"One more thing," she says, stepping closer. My breath picks up and I stare down at her. She lifts her arms and stands on her toes to place a Santa hat on my head. She smiles and her lips are _right there_, and then she steps back. "Perfect."

I pull on the back of my neck and laugh humorlessly. "This better fucking work."

The drive back to my sister's house is mostly spent in silence. Bella stops me before I open the front door.

"Hey," she whispers, grabbing my arm.

I frown. "Yeah?"

Her lips twitch as she suggests, "Maybe you should practice your Santa impression before we head in there."

I laugh, adjusting the beard. "You're loving this."

"Maybe a little," she admits. "Go on. Let me hear it."

"Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas."

She shakes her head in dismay, playfully pushing my chest. "Where's the emotion, Edward? Where is the Christmas spirit?"

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!" I say louder this time, dropping my voice a few octaves.

"Too much. So maybe just find something in between those, and you'll be good."

"Thanks a lot, punk," I laugh, resisting the urge to pinch her side, which would really just be an excuse to touch her.

Bella walks in first to make sure Emily isn't around. Emmett immediately breaks out into laughter when he sees me.

"It's a good look for you, man." I flip him off. "That's not very jolly of you."

"Boys," Esme chides. "Edward, go sit in the dining room and we'll bring Emily in."

Bella follows behind me and we head to the dining room. I pull out a chair, nervously bouncing my knee until I hear Emily's voice down the hall.

And then she's running into the room, grinning from ear to ear once she sees me. "Santa! You're here! You're really here!"

"I heard you wanted to see me, so..." I clear my throat, lowering my voice. "I gathered up my reindeer and came over as soon as I could."

She stops in place, staring suspiciously. "I thought reindeer could only fly on Christmas Eve?"

I'm terrible at this. I'm fucking terrible at this.

Bella nods, and attempts to save the situation. "It's true that reindeer can only fly on Christmas Eve. But whenever someone stops believing in Santa, he makes a special trip to help them believe again."

The babysitter's a fucking genius.

"You came here just for me?" Emily asks in small voice, turning back to me.

"Of course I did, Emily," I say in a jolly tone. Maybe _too _jolly, because Bella discreetly shakes her head, letting me know to tone it down a little.

Emily turns and beams at Rose. "He knows my name, mommy!"

Rose laughs. "Why don't you go over and tell him what you want for Christmas, Emmy. I'm sure Santa is a very busy and should be on his way soon."

I pat my lap, and she takes a few hesitant steps toward me.

"You're not fat anymore," she assesses as she climbs to sit on my knee.

"I'm on a... special diet."

It's quiet then, and Emily stares at me for a minute. She might be on to me.

"So, Emily. What would you like for Christmas?"

"I just told you," she replies simply. "My Uncle Edward said you can read minds, so I thought of what I wanted."

"Oh." Fuck.

"My friend Seth at school told me that mommies and daddies are the ones who put the presents under the tree, but I don't believe him."

"Don't worry about Seth. He's getting coal for Christmas."

Emily claps at this.

"Well, now that I know what you want, I better be on my way. My reindeer need to... go do stuff." I should leave the creative shit up to Bella.

"Wait. Where is my present?" Emily asks, tugging on my jacket.

"What present?"

The whining tone is back. "The present I just thought of, Santa!"

"It's not Christmas yet, Emily," Esme reminds her in a gentle voice.

"But when I see you at the mall, you always give me a present. I want my present!"

"My reindeer ate it," I blurt out because it's the only thing I can think of. She begins to sob.

"If you were the real Santa, you wouldn't let reindeer eat presents! You're a stupid-head!"

Her mood changes so quickly I don't even know what the fuck is happening.

"I bet you can't even read minds," she accuses, sucking in a ragged breath.

"Emily Elizabeth," Rose scolds. "You need to stop right now."

"If you can read minds, what do I want for Christmas?" she suddenly asks.

Fuck. She's good. I wrack my brain, trying to think of a toy she's mentioned recently. My mind is blank, and being Santa is so much fucking pressure. I can't deal. I can't deal with this.

"Um..."

"You're a fake! You're a fake! My Uncle Edward was right!" she screams, jumping off my lap and running out of the room.

"Edward. You need to fix this," Rose snaps, burning me with her gaze before she and Emse hurry out of the room to console Emily.

"I don't even know what just happened," I admit, pulling off the hat and beard. "I didn't think the mind-reading thing would come back to bite me in the ass."

"I think everything went downhill once you mentioned that the reindeer ate her present," Bella informs me with a laugh.

"I have no idea why I said that," I murmur, rubbing my forehead.

Bella sighs. "I think we've done all we can do. Poor kid."

"Wait. Listen up." Emmett suddenly steps closer and begins speaking in a hushed voice. "I was gonna go to Walmart and wait in line for this toy she wants. It's been sold out everywhere so far, but apparently they're getting a large shipment in at nine o'clock tonight."

I'm not following. "And?"

"Well, Rose said you have to fix this, right? So. If you go to Walmart and get her the toy, then show back up here in your suit, there's no way she can't believe in Santa."

I want to tell him that it doesn't matter. Who cares if she doesn't believe in Santa? It's all bullshit and she's better off knowing the truth. But then I look over at Bella who's frowning. Knowing that she actually feels bad about this makes me feel like shit.

I sigh in defeat. "Alright. How do we know the toy she was thinking about is the same one _we're_ thinking about?"

"Because she's been asking about this toy for weeks. Trust me. I know my own kid." Bella and I stare at him. "And... maybe Rose told me she's been asking for it, so."

Dad of the year.

I think of the full parking lot and the line of people waiting outside when we drove by the store.

"Why don't_ you _go wait in line for the toy," I suggest, "and then I can give it to her."

"Nah. That's okay. I'm good. You should probably leave now."

"It's four o'clock," I deadpan.

"Exactly. You should've left an hour ago," Emmett says seriously, glancing at his watch.

"If you were planning on going, then why are you still here?"

"Because _someone _decided they wanted to go around telling kids that Santa doesn't exist. I had shit to deal with here."

"Right. Because _you_ were the one who had to deal with it. _You _were the one who had to dress up as Santa."

He waves me off. "Semantics. But seriously, you should head out."

"Dude. Really? Why would anyone wait five hours in line just for a toy?"

"Is it ever_ just _a toy?"

What the fuck does that even mean?

"Okay, whatever. You fucking owe me," I scowl.

Rose walks back into the room, nostrils flaring. She stomps over to me and I flinch as she makes a fist and punches my arm.

"Fuck!" I yell.

"Baby, wait." Emmett places a hand on her shoulder, smiling robotically. "We have an idea. If this doesn't work, you can kick his ass later."

Rose crosses her arms as Emmett tells her the plan. The rage doesn't entirely fade from her eyes, but at least I don't fear for my life.

Once everyone calms down, I ask what I'm supposed to be buying.

"Some baby that sparkles when it's in the sun," Emmett says.

"Of course it sparkles. It's a fairy," Rose says, glaring at Emmett. "It's the newest edition to the Fairy Wonderland series of dolls. Every store has been sold out for months, but we heard Walmart is the only store that's getting a shipment in before Christmas."

"Which doll does she want again?" Bella asks.

"She wants one of the Sparkle Princesses. Not the one from Fairyland, but the one from the Western Forest—Princess Luna Sparkle."

Bella nods like she understands what the fuck Rose is saying.

"One of the blonde ones. But make sure it's the blonde with the blue dress, not the navy dress," Rose says to me, and my palms go sweaty.

I make the mistake of asking what the difference between blue and navy blue is.

"Don't be an idiot," Rose scoffs. "And be sure you grab the accessories pack, which comes with the glow-in-the-dark wings."

I take a deep breath. "Okay, so I'll wait in line, grab the doll, and save the day."

They burst out into laughter.

"You think it's going to be that easy? Just prepare yourself for the crazy." Emmett's warning does nothing to ease my nerves.

"Don't make eye contact with anyone," Rose says sternly. "People will assume you're friends and they'll try to cut you in line."

"Or they might just try to cut you," Emmett adds, laughing.

"And once you grab the doll, you need to run. Run to the nearest register, and whatever you do, don't look back."

I swallow thickly. "Uh. Okay, what was the fairy name again? Princess Sparkle Forest?"

The three of them share a look.

"You know what? I can just tag along," Bella offers. "I know which doll it is, so it might be easier if I'm there to help."

"True." Emmett nods. "And if one of you gets stabbed, the other one can still get the toys."

Rose finally smiles, looking relieved. "Good thinking, Bella."

I try to smile, but their words aren't comforting. I catch Bella's eye, and she gives me a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks for offering to come with me," I say once Rose and Emmett leave the room.

"It's fine. You kind of looked like a deer in headlights during that entire conversation, so..."

"You mean a _rein_deer in headlights, right?"

My chest feels light at the sound of her laugh, and I grin slowly. It's wrong, but I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to pull her into my lap.

I'm still wearing this stupid Santa suit, but I don't care because she's going to be spending the next five hours with me, instead of Backflip Garrett.

It's obvious she's doing this for Emily. I know that our time will be spent standing around strangers—possibly even getting stabbed by them—but I can't find it in myself to care right now.

And that's how, thirty minutes later, Bella and I are amongst the insane people standing in line at Walmart.

* * *

**Did anyone do any Black Friday shopping and actually make it out alive? If so, the next chapter's for you.**

**Thanks, thanks, thanks for reading!  
****  
Vic helped!**


	5. Flirting

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Flirting**

"Checkmate," I announce triumphantly.

Bella groans, looking up from her phone to cast me an annoyed glare. The wind picks up and blows her hair in her face. I can see her breath in front of her when she exhales. The sun set an hour ago, and now it's just dark and extremely fucking cold.

"I swear you're cheating," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

I shake my head, but keep the smug grin on my face. "How would I cheat? There's no way."

She releases a breath of annoyance, and I stare at her lips as she complains. "I don't know _how _you're cheating; I just know you must be."

When we arrived two hours ago, we sought out an employee and explained what we were here for. After laughing in our faces for a full two minutes, she told us that—to ensure the safety of the people—no one was allowed to line up yet and that everyone would be given instructions regarding the doll in a timely manner.

With everyone inside pushing, screaming, and acting like animals, we decided it'd be best if we avoided the insanity and hang around outside. So, we've been sitting against the building, braving the cold and playing Chess With Friends to pass the time. Bella has yet to win a single game. I'm finding it very amusing, whereas she's getting extremely frustrated.

"Play again?" I ask, nudging her with my shoulder.

Before she can answer, a man and woman run out of Walmart screaming, each pushing a shopping cart full of items. I'm not sure why they're running and screaming, and it truly fucking scares me.

In comparison to the people here, I feel pretty confident in knowing that Bella and I are the most normal out of everyone. Or as normal as one can be while wearing a Santa suit in public.

A woman and her kid walk past us. She shoots me a glare and clutches her child closer to her side.

"I think I should go to the car and take off the suit," I whisper to Bella. "That's the sixth mom who has given me a dirty look."

"Don't be so sensitive. The suit is festive," Bella assures me. "You're rocking it."

"Yeah, but without the hat and beard, I'm just a creepy dude standing outside Walmart, wearing a Santa suit."

"Good point. Maybe you should go take it off," she agrees.

I jog over to the car and remove the suit, tossing it in the backseat. I pull on my coat and lock the car, and by the time I make it back to Bella, there's a chick in a blue vest handing her a numbered ticket. She doesn't give us any instructions before disappearing.

"What's this for?" I ask Bella.

"I have no idea. She came over and asked if I was here for Princess Luna Sparkle. When I said yes, she handed me this ticket and walked away..."

I glance around, spot the nearest employee, and stalk over to him. "Excuse me? Can you tell me what this is?"

He gives me a look of disinterest. "It's a ticket."

"Right. What's it for?" I ask, annoyed by his attitude.

"It's for the raffle," he mutters, turning to walk back inside.

Bella appears by my side. "What raffle?"

The clerk stops at the sound of her voice, and I practically roll my eyes as he gives her his undivided attention. "Well, we only have a limited amount of Princess Luna Sparkle dolls, so we're handing out tickets to do a raffle. Apparently, things got out of hand last year, so this should keep things under control."

I pull out my wallet and place the ticket inside. "Just so we're not here wasting our time, exactly how many dolls are there? Because if it's less than a hundred, I don't think—"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he tells me sternly.

I snort. "_Not at liberty to say_? Come on. It's not like this is top secret shit."

His gaze hardens. "We have a very strict policy we're expected to follow."

I try not to stare at him like he's a fucking idiot, but I can't _not_. I just want the dude to tell us how many dolls they've received so I know if we should even bother staying. Before I can say anything else, Bella moves closer to him and smiles warmly as she glances at his nametag.

"Jake. That's your name, right?" she questions, practically batting her lashes.

He grins, and I'm pretty sure he fucking blushes. "Well, it's Jacob."

"Jacob. I like that name," she giggles. "I'm Bella. I don't think I've seen you working here before."

I roll my eyes at her obvious attempt to flirt the information out of the clerk. There's absolutely no way this will work.

"I just started a week ago," he says shyly. "And I'm sure if I saw you, I'd remember."

Bella laughs coyly. "You've only been working here a week? Wow. I would have never guessed. You're doing an amazing job."

"Yeah? I'm not curing cancer or anything, but—"

"No, you're really not," I interrupt, shoving my hands into my coat pockets.

"Do you always work on Thursdays?" she asks, flirty smile still on her face. He nods dumbly. "That's cool. I'm usually here on Thursdays, too."

"Maybe I'll see you around. I usually work in the gardening department."

"I love the gardening department," she says, and this is getting fucking ridiculous. "I'll let you get back to work, but before I do... maybe you can do something for me."

"Anything," he breathes.

"I'll give you my number, if you give me a number..." It takes him a second to respond. "Can you tell us the number of dolls you guys received? I know you're not supposed to tell us, but... I won't tell anyone else." He looks skeptical. "You can even whisper it in my ear."

His eyes flick to me, and the punk smiles smugly as he leans over and whispers in her ear. He seems to be telling her more than just a fucking number, and I have to look away. They finally pull apart and his large thumbs type away at his phone as she rattles off her number.

"You are seriously the best, Jacob," she coos. "Thank you so much."

"Anytime, Bella." He walks away, but not before he winks. Of course he fucking winks.

I burst into laughter once he's out of earshot, and begin to clap slowly. "Wow. I'm impressed."

"Shut up." She nods towards the parking lot. "Let's go to your car."

I walk next to her. "Why? Are we leaving?"

"No. According to Jake, the raffle doesn't start for another two hours, so I figured we could wait in your car until then. I can't really feel my toes anymore."

Her suggestion of waiting in my car is completely innocent, but I can't help but think it's otherwise not. Or maybe I'm just _hoping_ that it's not.

"I can't believe you gave that bozo your number," I say once we're in the car. I blast the heater, rubbing my hands together in front of the vent.

"Bozo? He seemed harmless."

"He's a mouth breather, Bella," I stress. "Those guys are never harmless. And he winked at you. He's a winker."

She cracks a smile at this. "Yeah but it's not like I'm actually going to go out with him."

I sigh, figuring I've teased her enough. "So? What'd he say? How many dolls did they receive?"

"Fifty."

I nod absently. The pessimistic—which also happens to be the realistic—side of me shines. "Yeah, I don't think we're going to get the doll."

"Why do you think that?" she questions, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

"How can you _not _think that?"

"I'm choosing to be positive."

"Hey. I'm positive... that you're delusional."

"Okay, so you want to leave, then? Because I think, since we're here, we might as well stay. And just think, if something happens and you _do_get shanked by one of the crazy people in there, you'll have a cool story to tell. And then all of the girls will love you."

I bark out a laugh. "Unless I die. Then I have no story to tell. Because I'll be dead."

She thinks this over. "Okay, true. But I won't let you die."

"You're too kind," I say teasingly. "Fine. We can stay for the raffle. I like hanging out with you, anyway," I admit, turning the heat down to give me something to do, other than stare at her.

"I like hanging out with you, too," she says softly.

I grin. "Good."

"Good." She smiles back, removing her scarf. She leans over to set it down by her boots, then picks up a CD wallet that's on the floorboard. "Oh my God. People still have these?"

"I don't even listen to those anymore. They're just in here."

"Uh huh." She unzips the case and flips through my CDs. She laughs, but doesn't say why, and I roll my eyes.

"You're laughing as you go through my shit. It's not very nice."

She ignores me, gently pulling a blank disc from the sleeve. "Ooh, what's this? You make mixed CDs?"

"There's probably nothing on it," I lie.

"That can't be true," she mutters, inspecting the front of the disc. "It says right here: _Jamz_, with a 'z'... so, clearly there are jams on here. With a 'z'."

"Alright, now you're just being an asshole," I accuse, reaching for the CD.

She slides the disc in before I can stop her.

"I just want you to know that I made this CD when I was in high school and—"

_I'm Gonna Be _by The Proclaimers blasts through the stereo, cutting me off. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I can feel her eyes on me, and I reluctantly glance her way. She looks like she wants to laugh, but all she does is smile.

I try defending myself with, "Who didn't love this song at one point in their life? Am I right?"

She shushes me, nodding along to the music. "The chorus is the best part. No talking."

We sit without speaking until the song nears the end.

"Are you done being a punk?" I ask when the song is over, turning the volume down.

"No. I want to see what else you have on here." She sits and waits for track two to start, but _I'm Gonna Be_ begins playing again. She looks confused, but doesn't say anything. "Wait a second," she muses, suddenly skipping through each song on the disc, only to find that every song is the same.

With a groan, I drop my head against the steering wheel in embarrassment.

Bella erupts in a fit of laughter. "This can't be considered a mixed CD if all fifteen tracks are the same song."

I lift my head. "Look. Back in the day—"

"Back in the day of _the jamz_."

"Whatever. My CD player was screwed up and the repeat button wouldn't work for shit."

"Because every teenage boy wants to have _I'm Gonna Be _on repeat," she teases. "You know this reinforces my joke about you graduating in eighty-nine, right?"

"Shut up."

"Why? It's funny. And kind of cute," she admits, looking away to eject the disc before slipping it back into the sleeve.

"Well, now that you've embarrassed me enough, I think it's only fair if you reveal something about yourself of equal humiliation."

"I'm just not an embarrassing person."

"I'll be the judge of that," I quip.

"I really can't think of anything embarrassing. Not on the spot, at least."

I shake my head in disbelief, and begin listing off things I know about her. "Okay. So, you went to UDub. You enjoy parades, flirting with mouth breathers, and you occasionally babysit one of the brattiest kids ever."

"Are you allowed to say that about your niece?"

"I wouldn't be able to if she _wasn't _my niece."

"Right."

"If _you _were to say it, I'd have to see to it that your babysitting days no longer existed," I say, trying to keep a straight face.

"You can't slack on your uncle duties," she agrees without missing a beat.

"Then again, if you were to think she's a brat, I could maybe let it slide. It's Thanksgiving night, and we're sitting in the Walmart parking lot because of her."

"I don't know. It's not so bad being here with you," she murmurs with a faint smile.

I swallow thickly. "I'm still waiting for you to admit something embarrassing."

"Give it up already," she says, breathing out a laugh.

"Fine. It doesn't have to be embarrassing. Just tell me anything."

She looks skeptical. "Why?"

"I'm just curious about you," I admit, quieter than I intended.

Bella's lips press together in a tight smile. "I hate talking about myself."

"That makes it extremely difficult for me to get to know you."

"Why don't you just read my autobiography? I'm sure any questions you have will be answered in there."

"You hate talking about yourself, yet you wrote a book... about yourself."

She chuckles at my point. "I didn't think that joke through."

"Clearly."

"You could just read my Facebook. I'm sure anything you want to know will be on there."

I grin and pull out my phone. "That works. What's your last name?"

"Are you really going to stalk me on Facebook?"

"It was _your_ suggestion. You have to accept my friend request first, and then we'll be _consensual_ stalkers."

"Swan," she tells me, rifling through her bag to grab her phone. "That's my last name."

I type her name into the search bar, her profile showing up as the first on the list. I click to add her as a friend, and grin when she accepts the request.

We're both silent then, our focus on our phones. I stare at her profile picture. I can't tell where she's at in the photo, but she's outside, the sky is dark, and she's smiling. I open my mouth to speak, and almost tell her that I like her smile better in person. But I stop myself. Because that might sound weird. It sounds weird enough in my head.

I quickly swipe my thumb to view another photo. It's of her and—according to the tag—Garrett. I'm judging him. I silently laugh at his hair. He looks like a dumbass. He looks exactly like someone who would do backflips.

I skip to the next photo, which is of her and a few girls posing together. I suddenly realize that I know one of them.

"Hey. I know the blonde." It's only after the fact that I bring attention to the girl that I remember _how _I know her.

Bella leans over the console to move closer, peeking at my phone to figure out which photo I'm looking at. Her shoulder presses against my bicep and her hair falls over her shoulder, brushing my arm.

"What?" I ask dumbly, and too softly.

Bella's gaze moves from my phone to my face. She pulls back a beat too late. "I said that's Lauren."

I clear my throat. My mind's no longer on Bella, but on Lauren. I move on to the next photo, hoping to change the subject somehow.

"How do you know her?" she asks after a minute.

"Huh?" I'm stalling. Lauren and I went out a few times. We slept together twice. I don't know if I should tell Bella that, though. It was nothing serious, and talking about it would make it out to be more than it was.

"I asked how you know her," she repeats.

"I just know her." Worst answer ever. "How do you know her?"

"Oh." Her tone forces me to look over at her. She smiles knowingly at me, then stares outside. "You _know _her, know her."

I don't even know what to say. "We went out a couple of times," I offer.

"She's cool," Bella says nonchalantly. "We were never really close. She's friends with my friend Kate."

I don't know why I'm nodding, as if this was information I already knew. My palms go sweaty. It's stupid. This shouldn't be an uncomfortable topic, but it is. Bella isn't anyone to me. I didn't even know her before today. I shouldn't care what she thinks, and I shouldn't be interested in her, especially when she has a boyfriend and likes to flirt with Walmart employees.

I watch as she puts her phone away, then turns in her seat to face me. "Lauren doesn't seem like your type."

"What?" I narrow my eyes, unable to hide my smirk. "You don't know me. How would you know what my type is?"

"Um, we're Facebook friends now, so I _do_ know you. Besides, I've been around you for what, the past five hours? I know that you do a terrible impression of Santa, and I know who your type of person is."

"First, _no one _does a good impression of Santa. And second, who is my type?"

She doesn't reply.

_You_, I want to answer for her. _You're my type_. I want to take her back to my place and show her just how much of my type she is.

"I just meant I know your type," she corrects after a minute. "I don't know _who_."

"Okay. Hit me. What's my type?"

She takes her time thinking this over, smiling to herself when she comes up with an answer. "Someone with a shit ton of facial piercings."

I laugh through my nose. "Sounds hot."

"Buzzed head," she adds, looking up at the ceiling of the car.

"Now you're just being mean," I chastise.

"No way."

"I'd say you're my type," I admit after a moment, not sure where this boldness suddenly stems from.

"Me?"

"Not you," I lie. "Your_ type_."

"But not _me_," she states.

I release a breathy laugh as I smirk. I'm a terrible fucking liar, and from the way she's staring back at me, she knows I'm lying, too.

"Do you have a type? Guys who can backflip or something?"

Her face scrunches in confusion. "What is it with you and backflips?"

I shrug, not really wanting to admit that I bribed Emily to get information on Garrett. Instead of telling her the truth, I ask, "You think your boyfriend will be jealous you gave your number to a mouth breather?"

"Garrett?" She looks surprised at my mention of him. "Maybe. But he doesn't really have a right to be jealous since we aren't together anymore."

My brows raise at an amazing speed, and I speak without thinking. "Oh. You're single."

She seems to find my reaction funny. "Yeah. I am. Well, for now. I was really hoping to start something with Jake..."

"Shut up," I laugh. "You told Rose that Garrett dropped you off earlier, so I assumed..."

She shifts uncomfortably. "Things are still kind of weird between us. We broke up a few weeks ago, though."

I want to ask her who broke up with whom, but I can't. It's none of my business.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I question instead, hoping this will give me what I want to know.

"Good, I think." She pauses, staring down at her hands. I don't think she's going to offer any other information, so I decide to drop it. But then she lifts her head and murmurs, "Yeah. It's definitely a good thing."

And that's how, three seconds later, I realize Princess Luna Sparkle isn't the only girl I need to get my hands on.

* * *

**Next update will be Friday. Like, this Friday... which is in two days. (I spent most of yesterday thinking it was Wednesday.)  
****  
Thanks for reading. No coal for you guys this Christmas!**

**Oh! And thanks to Annie for rec'ing this on Bookish Temptations, and lovethanks to Linae for making me the cute banner.**

**Kim, Crystal, and Vic are the bomb.**


	6. Scrooge

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Scrooge**

"Worst Christmas present ever?" I ask, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel in time to _Jingle Bell Rock_. After my mixed CD incident, Bella resorted to turning on the radio, settling on a station that was playing Christmas music.

"Oh!" She brightens at my question, and begins laughing before she speaks again. "One year, my mom bought me a radar detector for my car."

"That doesn't sound too bad. I could probably use one of those."

She playfully shoves my shoulder. "No, but you don't get it. My dad is a cop," she tells me, laughing. "My parents have some weird issues that I can't even begin to understand, so it was basically a _fuck you _to my dad."

I breathe out a laugh. I'm not sure if it's appropriate to find humor in the fact that her parents don't get along, but I figure it's okay since she's laughing, too.

"Okay, yeah. I can see why that'd be a shitty Christmas present."

"They use me to get back at one another, which is all kinds of fucked up. It used to upset me, but now that I'm older, I'm kinda over it. I don't really care."

"Apathy is awesome," I offer, because I'm not sure what else I can say.

She licks her lips before she speaks again, and I know I should listen to what she's saying, but I can't focus on anything but her mouth.

"During Christmas time, I find that apathy is best achieved with alcohol," she says. "_Especially _when family drama is involved."

I only catch the last bit of what she's said, and I have to force my gaze to meet her eyes. She gives me a half smile, and it's not lost on me that I was caught staring at her mouth.

My hand fists my hair as I push the strands away from my forehead. "So, what do you do for Christmas then? Since your parents obviously can't be in the same room."

Her eyes flick up to my hair, then back to my face. "I usually spend the holiday with my mom in Phoenix, but this year I'll be spending it here, with my dad."

"You don't sound too enthused," I point out, and she snorts.

"He doesn't really do much for Christmas."

"No tree?"

"Nope."

"So, he's a Scrooge," I deadpan.

"No. I don't know. He usually has to work on Christmas."

"So, he's a Scrooge," I say again, receiving a laugh this time. "Why aren't you visiting your mom this year?"

"She's spending it with my stepfather's family."

I frown at this. "And you weren't invited?"

"I was. I'd just rather not spend the holiday with people I don't really know."

"You'll be alone then?"

Bella hesitates before: "Garrett said I could spend Christmas with his family, but... I don't know."

"Right." I glance out the windshield.

"What do you do for Christmas?"

"We do this whole thing at my parents' house. We wear matching pajamas, string popcorn, and sing Christmas carols by the fire," I joke, keeping a straight face.

"Shut up." She tries stifling a yawn, but ends up smiling through it. "You do not string popcorn."

"You think that us stringing popcorn is weirder than wearing matching pajamas?" I chuckle, shaking my head. "Last year, Rose said she was going to make us string popcorn, so—"

"Sounds like Rose," she interrupts.

"Definitely. So, while Rose was getting ready, Emmett popped every bag of popcorn he could find in the house, and ate all of it so we wouldn't have to string it."

She tips her head back to laugh. "Sounds like Emmett."

"Anyway. We don't really sing carols or wear matching pajamas, but there_ is _a fire and a shit ton of eggnog. Oh, and zero family drama."

"The ingredients for a perfect Christmas," she teases.

"You know..." I pause, and nervously begin drumming my fingers on the wheel. "You're welcome to spend Christmas with us," I say, hoping she knows the offer is genuine.

A smile spreads across her face, but she says nothing.

"I know you said you don't want to spend Christmas with your stepfather's family because you don't know them, but..." I think back to earlier and how every single member of my family was overly excited to see her. "You already know my family. It wouldn't be awkward. Or... _that_ awkward."

I don't want her to feel obligated to spend Christmas with Garrett. Because first it's Christmas, then it's New Year's, and thinking about her kissing him at midnight makes me irrationally jealous. She's not anything to me, and I don't know if she ever will be, but no one should have to kiss a backflipper at midnight. No one.

"I'd feel bad knowing you're alone on Christmas," I try explaining when she still hasn't answered.

"It's really nice of you to offer, but..."

"You can think about it or whatever. I'm sure everyone would love to see you." I pause to grin. "Unless we don't get the doll. Then I doubt either of us would be allowed over for Christmas."

"Oh, God," she groans. "Speaking of the doll, when do you think we should head back?" she asks, turning to look out the window.

"It's been about an hour and a half, so..."

"Maybe we could wait around out front, just to keep tabs on what's happening?" she suggests, leaning over to grab her scarf. I nod, clearing my throat as she wraps it around her neck and moves to exit the car.

As we walk closer to the store, I take in my surroundings. There's a small crowd of people already gathered in front of the entrance. There are a few cops and security guards standing around, looking bored. I'm sure they're here for precaution, but their presence makes me feel on edge.

Forty-five minutes pass. None of the employees have come outside to address the raffle, and I'm starting to get annoyed. The number of people surrounding us triples, lowering our chance of receiving a doll. I rub at my forehead, imagining Emily's reaction if _Santa _shows up empty handed. But at least with there being a raffle, we won't have to worry about things getting too out of hand.

As if the Universe is playing a sick trick on me, the woman in front of me mutters to the man next to her: "I heard they're not going to do a raffle anymore."

Bella and I exchange a look.

I dip my head and lower my voice. "What's our game plan?"

"To not get killed."

And that's how, fifteen minutes later, all hell breaks loose.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Next chapter is longer and will actually have things happening. Like... stupid things. Things involving the insanity of shopping on Black Friday.**

**Kim looked over this. She's the best!**


	7. Mayhem

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Mayhem**

"I've never given much thought to how I'd die," I mumble to Bella. "But even if I had, I would not have imagined it'd be in the Walmart parking lot."

"You're being _so _dramatic," she tells me, rolling her eyes. "We're not going to die."

Okay, so maybe I _am _being a bit dramatic. But I'm also joking. Kind of.

We tease one another a little longer to pass the time. We've been standing outside for just over an hour, and everyone seems to be growing restless.

Ten minute or so minutes later, a couple of employees come outside and everyone goes silent, waiting for them to speak.

"What's going on?" Bella asks, placing her hand on my forearm to keep her balance as she stands on her toes, straining to see.

I grin down at her. "You're so short."

"Let me get on your shoulders," she suggests, laughing.

"Ridiculous. No."

"Welcome, Walmart shoppers!" a sales clerk yells, using a megaphone.

I jump, slightly startled by the loudness of his voice.

Bella snorts. "You're legitimately scared, aren't you?"

"No. I just wasn't expecting him to use a megaphone..." My argument trails off, and she doesn't look too convinced. "Pay attention," I scold with a smirk, nodding forward.

"We need everyone to form an orderly line!" the sales clerk instructs.

I glance around and watch as no one does what he says. At this point, what he's asking isn't even feasible. There are so many people here, and we're all packed together—I'm not even sure how an _orderly line _would be achieved.

He tries again. "Once you're all cooperate, the first fifty people will be escorted to the back of the store. The limit is one doll per person. Afterward, you can proceed with any other shopping you have to do. We have a great sale on fire pits—"

"The first fifty people? What about the raffle?" someone in the crowd—who obviously didn't get the memo about there no longer being raffle—yells out.

The sales clerk covers the megaphone and turns to the other employee, who's standing to his right and looks to be about sixty years old. They exchange a few words before he nods once, twice, then brings the megaphone back to his mouth. "We're no longer conducting a raffle. This will be first come, first serve. So, if you could just please—"

"This is bullshit!" someone else screams. "We were told there was going to be a raffle!"

The older employee grabs the megaphone and tries to appease the situation by merely saying, "No raffle."

Bella slightly turns toward me, reaching up with one arm and gently pulling on my neck. She draws my face closer to hers, and she looks like she's about to say something, but she doesn't. My pulse quickens when her expression changes. I don't know what she's doing, but we're staring at one another. Her eyes flicker from mine to my mouth. I want to press my lips to hers. I could so fucking kiss her right now. I won't, but I want to. I could, but I shouldn't.**  
**

The sales clerk's voice pulls me out of my daze.

"No raffle! No raffle! No raffle!" he screams over and over again.

"Shit's about to go down," Bella whispers.

I keep my head near hers and laugh.

"Fuck this shit!" a man close to us yells, and I swear I hear the cocking of a gun.

I'm no longer laughing.

"What was the point of handing out tickets—" someone adds, but whatever else they say goes unheard because everyone seems to start yelling over one another.

I pull away from Bella and strain my neck to see what's going on, but all I can see is that the employees are practically sprinting inside. Not a good sign.

A second passes and this is it. This is when all hell breaks loose. I can feel the pure frenzy radiating off of everyone as people begin pushing and shoving their way toward the entrance of the store.

I suddenly fear for mine and Bella's lives.

I've seen YouTube videos. I can figure out what happens next. We'll probably get trampled to death, and that's not okay. I don't want to die. Not in Walmart. No one deserves that; not even Backflip Garrett.

Panic begins to build in my chest, mostly because we can't really move. We're packed in like fucking sardines and now's the time I suddenly decide that I've been a claustrophobic all of my life. It's not true, but I'm convincing myself it is.

"Fuck," I gasp, needing space and air and to not be trapped by all of these people. "Fuck."

Bella manages to turn and catch a glimpse of my face.

And then she slaps it.

"Thanks," I breathe out, and she nods in acknowledgment.

I don't have time to think about what just happened as I get pushed along with the fast-moving swarm of people.

An elbow gets shoved into my side.

Someone behind me steps on my heel.

"Shit," Bella curses, looking behind her. "Dude, lay off!"

I look over and see a man's hands between her shoulders, trying to push her forward.

"Move, bitch!" the guy yells at Bella.

"Hey, Ludacris!" I bark, suddenly feeling protective of her. "Get your fucking hands off her."

The dude flips me off, but backs away.

I glare at him as I usher Bella in front of me, keeping a hand on her waist so we don't get separated.

A couple of minutes pass as people shove and scream obscenities at one another. We finally get to the point where we're able to make our way inside. The crowd breaks away, people running in different directions.

I pull Bella off to the side, near the in-store McDonald's, and I take in everything that's happening around us. The only thing that comes to mind is _complete and utter chaos_. And maybe _death_. Death also comes to mind.

"What are you doing?" Bella asks in confusion while tugging on my hand. "We need to go."

"Oh, thank god." I sigh in relief. "I thought you actually wanted to go through with this and—"

"No," she cuts me off. "Not _leave_. We need to go toward the back of the store and see if there are any dolls left."

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I glance toward the exit, thinking maybe we should just quit while we're still ahead. And by 'ahead', I mean 'alive.'

My jaw clenches as I stare over Bella's shoulder, my eyes widening at what I see occurring a mere twenty feet away.

"A teenage girl just throat-punched someone over a DVD, Bella. I mean, if it were a Blu-ray, that'd make sense, but over a fucking DVD?"

Bella tips her head back and laughs. I'm being a pussy. I know I am.

Somehow sensing my doubt, she places her hands on my forearms, and locks her eyes with mine as she says, "Edward? Man the fuck up."

"Wha—"

"We can't leave. We have to get the doll, okay? If someone throat-punches you, you throat-punch them back."

I nod, feeling a little breathless. "Okay. Okay. Right. Of course."

She grabs my hand and we begin running. I'm not sure exactly where we're going, but she seems to know where the dolls might be, so I try not to worry. My focus is more on not running into people and not getting stabbed. I _really _don't want to get stabbed.

The closer we get to the back of the store, the more crowded and chaotic things become. There's no orderly line and no employee in sight. People seem to be surrounding some display, and my guess is that that's where the dolls are.

Everyone is screaming and shoving and otherwise acting like fucking animals. Two ladies a few feet away from us are pulling each other's hair. A teenage boy kicks some man in the kneecaps. A man elbows another man in the face.

I realize none of these people are even fighting over anything. They're being violent just because, which is the scariest fucking thing ever.

"We have to split up," Bella tells me, attempting to release my hand.

"No," I say automatically, my fingers tightening around hers.

This isn't even about me being a pussy. This is about me being worried because she's short and a lot smaller than me, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if she got punched in the throat.

Bella points toward the people swarming the front of the display. "You need to push your way in, and I'll go around to the other side. At least one of us should be able to make it through, grab a box, then get out of there."

She doesn't even look scared. I'm standing here, chest feeling as though I'm about to have a heart attack, and she's spitting out game plans like it's _nothing_.

We haven't agreed on anything yet, but she nods and goes to leave. I grab her waist and pull her against me.

"Bella. This is a bad idea," I insist, shaking my head.

"You're wasting time," she mumbles, half-heartedly pushing against my chest.

She's right.

I let go.

"You'll be fine," she assures me.

"I'm not worried about me."

Her expression softens. "I'll be fine," she mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before darting in the opposite direction.

When Bella finally disappears from my sight, I stand there, stunned at what's happening around me.

A woman races past me, one arm clutching a colorful box to her chest, and the other flailing around. Her free hand smacks me in the face, but I can't even be mad. She seems to have snapped me out of whatever daze I was in.

My eyes follow the lady and I wince as someone comes out of nowhere and takes her out. As they fight over the box, I catch a glimpse of the what's hidden behind the clear plastic: the Sparkle Whatever doll. It's the creepiest and ugliest thing I've ever seen, but Emily wants it, and Bella is off being a badass, so I have to at least try.

I need to_ man the fuck up.  
_

I have to start somewhere, so I step toward the back of the crowd and wedge myself between two women. Their screams are loud in my ears. I duck my head and pull my elbows against my sides and continue pushing through the wall of psychos.

I'm able to move inch by inch, but then I hit a point where I can't go any further. I realize I'm surrounded in a sea of people, and my breath becomes shallow.

_Man the fuck up. Man the _fuck_ up.  
_

An old man next to me grabs the collar of my coat and tries yanking me back. I have no idea why. I did nothing to him. I pull out of his grip and use my shoulder to body-check him. I feel bad, and I'm not proud of it, but I do it. Manning the fuck up means you body-check people, even if they've had a hip replacement in their lifetime.

Seconds pass. Someone elbows me in the eye, and I fucking hate my life. Rubbing my eye with the heel of my hand, I blink a few times. My cheekbone throbs, but I haven't been rendered blind, which is cool. It's then that I realize I'm only a few feet away from the display shelves.

I see two people holding boxes above their head, trying to find a way out. I wouldn't dare try to take the dolls away from them, but seeing that they have one in their possession gives me hope.

Adrenaline courses through my veins and gives me the strength to squeeze myself to the front of the crowd.

I scan the shelves. The sound around me seems to fade away. Any excitement I felt suddenly deflates, because there's not a single box in sight.

Nothing.

It's over.

It's done.

I can't believe I risked my life for nothing. I can't believe I wasted my time. I can't believe I body-checked an old man.

In the midst of my pity party, I catch sight of Bella about twenty feet away, fighting with a woman with wild red hair. Bella shoves the woman away from her, and attempts to get away. But the woman doesn't give up and yanks a fistful of Bella's hair.

Anger flares inside of me.

I'm wondering how safe it is to climb the shelves and trying to figure out the best way to get to Bella, when someone jumps on my back. They wrap their arms around my neck, and I lose it. I'm fucking livid.

"Get the fuck off me," I spit, pulling at their hands and shaking from side to side until they fall off.

When I catch sight of Bella again, I try calling out her name. It's no use. She can't hear me. I can't even hear myself.

The people who had the last of the boxes acted as bait, and lured the majority of the people away, making it easier for me to get to Bella.

I'm not sure what I can do to stop this, so I watch in confusion for a second. I don't even know why this woman wants to fight Bella. She doesn't have a box in her hand, and she doesn't have a doll, but from the way this woman is targeting her, you'd think she did.

"Two people with dolls just ran toward Electronics," I tell the red-headed woman. "You could probably catch them."

She ignores me, and pushes Bella, who shoves her back. The woman retaliates by using flailing hands to slap at Bella's face.

"OKay, okay. Chill the fuck out," I command loudly, stepping between them.

Bella gets in one last throat-punch before tugging on my hand and running toward the front of the store.

We only make it halfway before we have to stop and catch our breath. We hide out in the Bedding section. We're not completely alone, but I don't feel unsafe, which is a nice change.

"Holy shit," I breathe out, leaning over and placing my hands on my knees.

"Is my lip bleeding?" she asks, pressing her fingers to puckered lips.

I stare at her mouth. "No."

Bella examines my face, then brings a hand up to touch just above my cheekbone. "It looks like you're going to have a black eye. Did you get hit?"

"Elbow to the eye," I kind of brag.

She cracks a smile. "See. And you were worried that things were going to get out of control."

"Seriously, though. We need to get out of here."

"Yeah," she agrees. "But first, we need to go wait in line to check out."

"What? Why?"

I watch in confusion as Bella unbuttons her coat, showing me a glimpse of the doll she's been hiding.

"How the fuck did you get that?" I hiss lowly.

"Getting it was the easy part, but taking it out of the box and hiding it in my coat without anyone seeing me was harder. That's more or less why that lady was trying to murder me," she explains.

"I'm kind of impressed with you right now," I admit, swallowing.

"You should be."

She smiles triumphantly. She's slightly sweaty, and her hair is a mess all around her face, and she's so fucking pretty. Her eyes are dark and wide, and her lips are full and this isn't the ideal place, but I want to kiss her.

So I do.

I step forward and cup her face with my hands. She grins, because she knows. I dip my head just a little lower and slightly tilt it to the side. And then I let my mouth press against hers, gently at first. I feel her hands move inside my jacket, clutching at my shirt. Her lips move against my lips, and my mind wanders when I feel her tongue on mine.

She makes this quiet whimper when I pull her bottom lip between my teeth. Her arms move from my chest to my waist, and I fucking love feeling her hands on me. A few seconds later, I have to pull away because my dick is getting hard and we're still in Walmart.

We're still standing so close, with her arms around my waist, that she has to tilt her head back and look up when she speaks.

"So. You like to kiss girls who you aren't into?" she asks teasingly.

"Come on." I give her a little shake. "I said you were my type."

"You said you were into my _type_, but not _me_," she reminds me, but her smile let's me know she knew it was her all along.

With a shake of my head, I press a quick kiss to her lips. "It's_ definitely _you."

And that's how, five seconds later, I'm resisting the urge to have sex with my niece's babysitter in the middle of Walmart.

* * *

**One more chapter, guys! And maybe an epilogue. Probably. Maybe.**

**Thank YOU for reading, and thanks to those who voted for this in the Fic of the Week poll on TLS!**

**Major love & thanks to FictionFreak95, as well as the ladies of Rob Attack, for rec'ing this story on their blog!**

**Kim and Vic read over this and assured me it wasn't crackfic. I think they lied, but whatev.**

**OH! Speaking of crackfic (terrible segue) VampiresHaveLaws and Capricorn75 are hosting a HO HEY Contest, based on The Lumineers song of the same title. I'm one the the judges, along with spanglemaker9, jarkin33, and LyricalKris. For more info, check out the contest page, which is under my favorite authors list!  
**

**Longest AN ever. I'm shutting up now.**


	8. Black Eyes

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Black Eyes**

By the time Bella and I make it to my car—safely, I might add—it's close to one in the morning.

I buckle my seatbelt and start the car as Bella turns in her seat to place the doll in the back. When she moves to face forward, I catch her eye. She's right there, slightly leaning toward me, elbow resting on the center console.

"So, that was interesting," she says.

"What was?"

"The whole..." She uses her hands to act out what I assume to be the violent happenings in Walmart. Her elbow comes up, I guess to mimic me getting elbowed in the eye, but she gets too close and I instinctively jerk back. "Sorry," she mumbles, shaking her head. "I get delirious when it's late."

"And theatric, too." I laugh, and her eyes narrow when I begin reenacting her reenactment. I realize what I'm doing and quickly drop my hands. "Maybe I'm delirious, too."

"Are you okay to drive?" she asks, laughing breathlessly.

"Yeah. No problem. I'm tired, not drunk. It's not like we need a DD or anything."

"You're already a DD." I stare blankly until she explains herself. "A Delirious Driver."

"Clever."

"I thought so," she agrees. "You know what else I think? That we make a good team."

I search her face, and can't help but grin. "Yeah. We kind of do."

The dome light above us shuts off and we're sitting in the darkness of my car, staring at one another. Her smile grows with each passing second. I quickly wonder if I should kiss her again. I'm not sure what the rules are, especially with our first kiss being in the middle of Walmart. Am I restricted to only making a move in retail department stores? Or can I kiss her anytime I want? Like now, for instance.

I might be overthinking this. Scratch that—I _know_ I'm overthinking this. My head is literally aching, but that might be due to the fact that I took an elbow to the eye. Plus, having to wait in line for almost two hours didn't really help with my sanity. I thought attempting to get a doll was the hard part, but I was mistaken. It was the _waiting in line while trying to keep the doll hidden_ part that was tricky. I think I was on the verge of having a seizure at one point, because I was so certain someone was going to figure out what Bella had hidden beneath her coat, then follow us to my car, break our knees, and steal the doll.

Black Friday did a number on my nerves, as well as my imagination.

Bella sits back against her seat and buckles up. I blink, and realize I missed my chance to kiss her because I was thinking about someone breaking my knees.

I'm beginning to wonder if the elbow to the eye caused some sort of brain damage.

The sound of a bell chiming breaks the silence. Bella pulls out her phone and smiles as she begins typing away on her screen.

I pull out of the parking lot, glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds. Not because I'm paranoid and checking to make sure no one is following us. Safety first or whatever.

A couple of minutes later, we're stopped at a red light when I realize she probably needs a ride home. Unless she was just texting Backflip Garrett to pick her up from Rose's, in which case, she wouldn't need a ride... just a brain scan.

"Do you need to go home?" I blurt out.

She cracks a smile at this. "At some point, yes. I will need to go home."

"Okay. Right. Well, I was going stop by Rose and Emmett's to drop off the doll, because I don't feel comfortable having it in my possession. But if you need to go home, I can stop by your place first."

I don't want to say bye just yet, but I don't know what else to do. It's already late. It's not like hanging out is really an option.

"Hmm..." She pretends to think this over. Or maybe she really is thinking it over.

The light turns green. "Speak now, because in about a hundred feet, I need to make a left turn if we're going to Rose's."

"I don't work well under pressure," she mutters frantically. "Um, we can stop by your sister's first. It's on the way to my place, anyway."

"Okay, cool."

"Unless you're tired of me and want to drop me off at home. That's completely fine, too."

A smile appears on my face. I realize that maybe she's just as unsure about all of this as I am.

"Nah, I'm not tired of you. Not yet, anyway."

"Ha ha," she says dryly, leaning forward and messing with the radio, settling on a station playing some song by an indie band. The song has lost its charm due to how many times a day it's played. "Is this okay? Or would you rather listen to your _jamz_?" she teases, which fucking reminds me.

"Hey, you never told me something embarrassing about yourself."

Her smile disappears. "So?"

"I'm waiting."

She groans, staring out the window. "Okay. I gave myself a black eye once."

I bark out a laugh. I don't even know what I can say to this information.

"How did you manage to do that?" I finally ask when my laughter subsides.

"I honestly don't know. It happened when I was at camp. I was ten years old, and had a flashlight in my hand because, when it was dark out, we played flashlight tag. I spazzed out or something, and when my hand flew up, the flashlight hit my eye..."

I'm pretty sure it's not safe to be driving with how hard I'm laughing right now.

"Edward." She crosses her arms. "I didn't laugh at your terrible taste in music."

"Yes, you did."

"Okay, I chuckled. It was appropriate."

The traffic light ahead of us turns yellow, and I decide against speeding up because I'm grateful to stop so I can collect myself.

"My reaction to hearing that you gave yourself a black eye is _entirely_ appropriate," I insist, wiping my eyes because I might be crying from laughter.

"I was lying anyway," she mumbles. "I was just trying to make you feel better about your own black eye."

"You don't need to make me feel better about this. It's not like I did it to myself."

Her lips twitch as she shoves my shoulder, a little too hard. "Whatever. Drive. The light is green."

"Hey," I scold, facing forward. "Don't fuck with the driver. Your life is in my hands."

"You don't scare me," she insists, playfully shoving me again.

"No? Well, you scare me. You throat-punched someone, Bella. You're a badass. You're lethal."

"It felt natural," she muses. "And, hey. You were pretty badass, too."

"Oh, yeah? Like when?"

"Like... when you yelled at that guy to leave me alone."

"Right. That was hardcore," I snort.

"Don't sell yourself short," she says, sounding sincere. I glance over at her. "Your verbal skills are unparalleled."

"So... you like what I can do with my mouth?" I ask, because I can't pass up the chance to see her reaction.

She breathes out a laugh and her eyes are on my lips. "Your mouth wasn't so bad."

"_Wasn't so bad_? Come on," I push, grinning.

"Eyes on the road," she instructs.

I catch her smile before I look away.

And that's how, a minute later, I'm wondering when I can show her how good with my mouth I really am.

* * *

**The story about Bella giving herself a black eye may or may not have been a true story. Not regarding me or anything, just... someone I know. Who isn't me.**

**Thanks for reading. Okay. There is one more real chapter (which is almost finished!), and then an epilogue. So. I'm shooting to complete this story by next Thanksgiving. Just kidding. I'm actually shooting for next Christmas.**

**Kim and Vic looked over this for me. I like them. A lot.**


	9. Leftovers

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Leftovers**

It's tough, but I manage to hold back my insults when I pull into Rose and Emmett's driveway, which is lined by giant candy canes. The house is overly-decorated in white blinking lights. There's garland wrapped around the pillars of the porch. There's an inflatable snowman in the front yard, along with tiny, plastic people and animals that are a part of the nativity scene.

"Help me figure this out," Bella starts as I shut off the engine. "When we left, it was Thanksgiving... and now it's Christmas."

"Are you afraid?"

"Mostly confused."

I laugh loudly, grabbing the doll from the back seat. "Don't let this affect your decision on whether or not you spend Christmas with us. I guarantee, other than the tacky decorating of the house, our Christmases are fairly normal."

"As if an inflatable snowman could scare me off," she teases, stepping out of the car.

We make our way to the porch, and I unlock the door, letting Bella in first. I head straight for the living room, not even surprised to see a large, artificial tree in the corner, covered in lights, tinsel, and ornaments.

"Jesus," Bella breathes.

"He is the reason for the season," I joke, then point across the room. "And look. The stockings are hung by the chimney with care."

My lips mash together in a smile and I watch her head tilt back as she laughs loudly at my jokes. Her laughter turns into a light chuckle, and she's still smiling widely when she looks at me, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She looks so fucking pretty like this. I realize I'm not smiling anymore, just staring.

"What?" she asks, removing her coat.

"What?" I echo, removing mine as well.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

I contain my smirk. "I'm not looking at you like anything. Hey, what should I do with this?" I ask, holding up the doll to change the subject.

"Are they going to give it to Emily before Christmas?"

"I have no idea. I guess so?"

"Maybe you can just put it under the tree for now?"

I frown. "Why don't we know more about what's going on?"

"I have no idea," she sighs.

I toss the doll under the tree, covering it with a throw blanket from the couch. "There. Perfect."

"Perfect. So... what now?"

We stand there. I should offer to drive her home, but I don't want to. I mean, I _want_ to drive her home, but just not yet. Then again, there's not really much we can do at my sister's house, so we should probably leave. Unless she wants to chill in the backyard and jump on the trampoline, but then I'd be obligated to attempt a backflip, and I don't really feel like breaking my neck tonight.

"Are you hungry?" I question, rubbing a hand over my stubble. "We could eat the leftovers from earlier."

"We could definitely do that," she agrees, following me into the kitchen.

I open the fridge. "Beer?"

Her lips press together in a smile and she shakes her head. "Still weird."

"Eh. They're asleep. It's not weird if you drink their beer. In fact, they owe you the beer after what you did for them tonight."

Not ten seconds after I say this, Rose bounds into the kitchen. She's wearing a robe, an eye-mask that's pushed up to her forehead, and there's a crazy look in her eyes. I unintentionally jump at the sight of her.

"You got the doll," she states.

I nod, and she steps forward, practically assaulting me with a hug. This might be the first time my sister's ever hugged me before, and it's all because of a doll.

"Where is it?" she asks, suddenly patting me down.

I swat at her hands. "Jesus. It's under the tree."

"And the accessories?"

I blink. "Wait, what?"

"The accessories," she says, drawing out the word, as if I don't understand the meaning.

Bella and I exchange a look.

Rose brings a hand up to the bridge of her nose and pinches it. "Edward, please tell me you got the glow-in-the-dark wings." She looks like she might be shaking. I don't think reacting this way over a toy is healthy.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I ask in disbelief. Fatigue and hunger are causing me to become whiney. "I took an elbow to the eye. Bella was attacked by some psychotic bitch, whom, in the end, was fought off with a punch to her throat. You seriously—"

"Bella, you throat-punched someone?" Rose interrupts, looking impressed.

"Yeah." Bella's nonchalance shines as she shrugs. "No big deal."

I crack a smile, which lasts a few seconds before I turn back to Rose and glare. "You know what else isn't a big deal? The fucking accessories."

I can't believe how ungrateful she's being. She inhales deeply and I lock my jaw just as Bella steps in.

"Honestly, I didn't even see any accessories at the store. Maybe you can try ordering them online or something? And I'm sure Emily will be so excited to have the doll, she probably won't even notice there aren't any glow-in-the-dark wings."

Rose thinks this over. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll check online in the morning, anyway."

My jaw is still locked, so I take deep breath. My anger deflates, but I still feel slightly anxious. I think I might be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. Walmart did this to me. I wouldn't wish this upon my greatest enemy. Not even Backflip Garrett.

"How did you manage to get a doll, anyway? We weren't sure you'd be able to pull it off."

"You can thank Bella for that," I tell my sister. "It was seriously all her. She's amazing."

Rose stares at me questioningly, and longer than I appreciate. I clear my throat. I don't like the way she's looking at me, like she just fucking _knows _I'm into Bella.

"Don't be so modest, Edward," Bella argues, giving me a tiny smile. "It was a joint effort. You're pretty amazing, too."

As soon as she says the words, we just stand there, grinning at one another. She licks her lips, and I'm immediately thinking about her mouth on mine. I have a feeling she's thinking about that, too.

"Well," Rose speaks, pulling our attention back to her. "Thanks, you guys. Seriously."

"You're welcome," Bella says politely, as if she wasn't just eyefucking the shit out of me.

"Yeah. Welcome," I mumble. "Now... give me food."

The two of them laugh. I'm glad I bring so much joy to the world.

"Leftovers are in the fridge. You can help yourselves. I'm going back to bed." Rose goes to leave, but stops, voice sincere as she says, "Hey. You're a good uncle."

"I already knew that," I admit, mostly joking. "I'm just glad you're finally noticing."

"Yeah, yeah. Clean up after yourself when you're done," she instructs before disappearing down the hall.

"You really are a good uncle," Bella says quietly, watching me.

"Well, you're a good babysitter."

"I don't think I charge them nearly enough," she teases.

I snort, pulling out two plates and two forks as Bella excuses herself to the bathroom. About thirty seconds after she leaves, I hear Emily's small voice echo from somewhere in the house.

"Santa? Is that you?"

I head toward the living room and catch sight of her lingering at the bottom of the stairs, sleepily rubbing both eyes with her hands.

I hold back a laugh. "It's not Santa, Emmy. It's just me."

"What are you doing, Uncle Edward?"

"What are _you _doing?" I challenge. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I'm thirsty," she mumbles in a tiny voice. "Can you get me some water, Uncie?"

Oh, she pulled out that big guns with that. She hasn't called me Uncie since she was three. I ruffle her hair. With a quick nod, I walk into the kitchen and grab one of the small, colorful plastic cups that are regulated to her use only. I know Rose would have a fit if she knew I was using water from the tap, but I'm too lazy to get the pitcher of purified water out of the fridge.

I head back toward the living room and see her sitting on the couch. Her small hands reach out when I hand her the cup, and I let myself sink into the cushion next to her.

"Thank you," she says, water dribbling down her chin as she takes a sip. I realize this might be the first time she's ever thanked me for anything. She can be kind of sweet when she's tired.

Bella walks into the room, smiling warmly at Emily. "Did someone sneak out of bed?"

She brightens when she sees her babysitter. Bella sits on the arm of the couch, and Emily wraps her arms around Bella's thigh. I might be jealous of a five year old.

"Bella, are you going to stay here with me forever?"

We both laugh at this. The way she thinks is so odd to me.

"No. I'm leaving soon." Her eyes flick over to mine. "Your Uncle Edward is nice and is going to drive me home."

Emily lights up. "You think he's nice?"

"I do. I think he's the nicest," Bella tells her, whispering like it's a secret.

"Do you want to marry him?" Emily asks, erupting in a fit of giggles.

"Okay, you. That's enough," I interrupt, reaching over to tickle her. Which is stupid. I'm winding her up when she should be going back to bed. But I need her to stop talking to Bella, and this seems to be the quickest way.

"Stop! No!" she shrieks. "I'm gonna pee!" I back the fuck up. "Gotcha!" she laughs, and I visibly relax.

Joking about pee is _never _funny. Unless you're Dave Chappelle.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Emily suddenly asks. She crawls into my lap to get a better look at my face.

"Um, no."

"Did Daddy punch you in the eye?"

I'm concerned those were her first two guesses.

I snort. "What? Why do you think Emmett punched me in the eye?"

She goes to touch my cheekbone. Her grace and coordination are severely off, because she pokes me in the eye instead.

I jerk back. "Ow. Thanks."

"Who punched you?"

"I didn't get punched. Someone elbowed me in the eye."

"Why?"

"Because people are assholes," I tell her honestly.

Emily covers her mouth. "That's a bad word," she mumbles from behind her hand.

"Then don't tell your mom I said it in front of you." I sigh. "So, I heard you had some problems with Santa earlier."

"He's a fake," she whispers with wide eyes.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because."

"Why?"

"Because!"

Well, this conversation is going nowhere.

"Listen, kid. Santa is real," I insist, and Bella releases a laugh. "Go look under the tree."

Emily's head whips around and she darts over to the tree. She looks disappointed. "Santa got me a blanket?"

I'm running out of patience here.

"Look_ under_ the blanket, Emmy," Bella says for me.

Emily lifts the blanket and squeals.

"Princess Luna Sparkle!" She clutches the doll to her chest, hugging it tightly. "Santa isn't an asshole!"

I burst out into laughter, then realize, "Hey. Don't... say that word."

"But you said it."

I shrug it off. Rose and Emmett can deal with that.

She goes back to squealing and jumping and saying, "I love Santa! I love him so, so much!"

It's cool and all. I'm glad she's happy. It just sucks that Santa is getting all of the credit for this when the fucker did absolutely nothing. I bet he never took an elbow to the eye, or had to body-check someone. I'm sure he never had to deal with Walmart shoppers. I'm certain... I'm losing my mind. I'm jealous of a fictitious dude.

Emily starts singing some song, twirling around with the doll when Bella says, "You know, your uncle is one of Santa's helpers."

Her little dance suddenly stops and she casts me a glance before turning back to Bella. "His ears are kind of pointy, but he doesn't look like an elf."

I self-consciously bring a hand up to my ear as Bella drops to her knees in front of Emily. "He's not an elf, silly. But your uncle is the one who got the doll for you." Emily frowns, apparently not understanding. "Santa's really busy and sometimes hires helpers."

Emily's eyes go wide. She looks like she might cry. Motherfuck.

"Uncle Edward, you got me Princess Luna Sparkle?"

"Maybe? Bella helped—"

Before I can say anything else, Emily's small arms are around my neck and she's hugging me.

"You're my favorite," she whispers in my ear.

I hug her back. I think we're having a moment. Bella looks on like it's the sweetest thing she's ever seen. And maybe it is. Sure, Emily's a brat, but I'll admit it—I like the kid, enough to risk my life in Walmart on Black Friday.

The moment ends when Emily sneezes in my face.

"Alright. You need to get back to bed," I mumble, wiping my cheek. She looks like she's about to protest, so I move her off my lap and drop to my knees. "I'll piggyback you up the stairs."

It works. She squeals, keeping the doll in her hand, and climbs onto my back, grabbing my shoulders for support.

They said goodnight to each other, and I carefully walk up the stairs and into Emily's room. The night-light glowing in the corner helps me find my way to her bed, and I set her down.

"Into bed, you," I say quietly, pushing stuffed animals off her bed and onto the floor.

She crawls under the blanket and places the doll next to her on the pillow.

"You good?" I ask. She nods, yawning. "Okay, well. Night."

"Uncie?" she calls out when I reach the door. "Tell Santa I said thank you."

I run a hand through my hair, realizing that my work here is done. She believes in Santa again. I can sleep peacefully tonight. Cool.

"Okay. I'll tell him." I leave the door halfway open and head downstairs.

"That was fast," Bella says, standing from the couch. "It usually takes me an hour to get her to bed. You're going to get me fired."

"Yeah, right. They love you," I counter, giving her shoulder a small shake. "By the way, you didn't have to tell her it was me who got the doll."

Bella tilts her head to the side. "I know. But I mean... I couldn't let Santa get all of the credit. You did all of this for Emily without the prospect of milk and cookies. You're better than Santa."

"_Better than Santa_?" I ask, feigning shock.

"Yeah." She laughs. "Better looking, too."

I grin down at her. "So you think I'm nice, a good uncle, and better looking than Santa."

"Basically."

"Bella." I try to keep my face serious as I say, "It kind of sounds as though you like me."

Her eyes slightly narrow, and she keeps a straight face, too. "Well, ever since that kiss in Walmart, how could I not?"

I swallow, no longer trying to keep myself from smiling. "Have you been thinking about that?"

"I've mostly been wondering why you haven't kissed me again."

Ah. Yeah. I've been wondering that, too.

"I'm not sure what the protocol is. I don't know if you have a thing for only kissing in Walmart."

"I think it's fairly simple. If you like someone, and it seems as though they like you, you can kiss them," she explains, gently placing a hand on my chest.

I tip my head back and laugh. "Fuck. I swear I'm not usually this... confused and awkward when it comes to how things work. It's just, you..." I trail off, bringing a hand to the side of her neck.

"It's just me?" she repeats, breathlessly.

I nod dumbly before I dip my head and press my lips to hers. Our mouths move together, slowly at first. But then her hands move higher up my chest and she's gripping my shirt and breathing into my mouth and I might be getting hard and our kiss turns frantic and I slip my hands around her waist to bring her closer and we're still standing in my sister's living room, which makes sense as to why we suddenly hear Emmett's voice.

"Whoaaaaa."

We pull apart and stare at Emmett. I try not to look smug, but I can't fucking help it. Bella fixes her shirt, and I adjust myself.

"Hi, Emmett," I say.

"Hi, Emmett," Bella echoes.

"Not that I'm not... all for this," he says, laughing, "but I need to kick the two of you out before my kid walks down here and finds you two fucking on the couch."

I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone blush as much as Bella is right now.

"Yeah, we were just... leaving," I mumble. "I just need to grab those leftovers Rose put together for me."

"Uh huh. You go do that. I'll wait here." He's got this shit-eating grin on his face, and he crosses his arms.

Bella and I quickly pull on our coats, and I disappear into the kitchen, grabbing as many tupperware containers as I can. Fuck it. I did all of the hard work earlier. It's only fair if I get all of the leftovers.

Emmett opens the front door for me, but not before grabbing the top container, which is filled with mashed potatoes.

"Mine," he grumbles.

"Bye, Emmett," I say as we walk outside.

"Bye, Emmett," Bella echoes again.

He slams the door behind us.

"Did we just get kicked out of your brother-in-law's house because we were caught making out in the living room?" Bella asks in shock.

"Basically. Hey, can you grab my keys out of my pocket?"

Bella reaches into the pocket of my jeans, and my smile is smug.

"Not the pocket of my _jeans_." I laugh. "Sorry. They're in the pocket of my coat."

She looks a little embarrassed. "Right."

After she unlocks the car, I set the tupperware containers in the floorboard of the backseat. And then we're sitting in my car, in the dark again, just like earlier. Except this time I lean over and kiss her, because it's simple: I like her, and I'm pretty sure she likes me, too.

When we pull apart and I ask if she wants to go over to my place, because it's close by and I need help eating all of the leftovers, she says yes.

And that's how, twenty minutes later, we're sitting in my living room, eating leftovers, drinking beer, and listening to The Proclaimers on repeat.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing and other cool things of that sort. You guys are awesome. I totally want to backflip for y'all.**

**Marking this complete! But if I can think of something cute to write for an epilogue, I will.**

**Major thanks to Kim and Vic who went over this chapter with me MULTIPLE times. You guys make everything better.**


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